


The Linhardt Diet

by Cucklord



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Feeding, Fluff, Gay, M/M, Short, Stuffing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-03
Updated: 2020-04-03
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23458708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cucklord/pseuds/Cucklord
Summary: Made on a Friend's Request as a Bit of a Joke. I don't know the characters super well but just wanted to see how well I could do within half an hour and keeping it to 1000 words exactly.
Relationships: Caspar von Bergliez/Linhardt von Hevring
Kudos: 12





	The Linhardt Diet

Linhardt felt energized as he stepped lightly from his dormitory. Perhaps today would be the day that he finally conquered his intermittent drowsiness. For a week or so he had been studying the influence of diet on health and fighting ability and had read some useful things about influencing the circadian rhythm by careful portion control--especially in the evenings. If today was any indication, he might yet see success, but only time would tell.

As he passed his friends’ rooms, he noticed most of their doors left open for the cleaning staff, which was hardly unusual. Even with his promising new diet regime, he was a late sleeper and would have to be quick at the breakfast table. Still, he was surprised when he found Caspar’s door still shut tight. Concerned, he went to tap at it. 

“Caspar? Are you still in there?” he waited a moment and, hearing no reply, assumed that he had forgotten protocol again. Feeling helpful, he opened it wide and was treated to the sight of his friend on the floor wearing nothing but an undershirt and a pair of rather indiscreet briefs. Linhardt averted his gaze instantly, fearing the effect that such a shock might have on his tender constitution, but was not fast enough to avoid noticing the bulbous and taut stomach which appeared to be severely testing the tensile strength of Caspar’s white shell buttons.

Caspar, for his part, turned bright red and yelled, “What the hell are you doing in he--” his might roar of indignation was cut off by a burp that made Linhardt feel faint. 

“What in heaven’s name are you doing, Caspar?” Linhardt said, eyes still averted, “You--it is time for breakfast, though I see you have already eaten. I thought you were going to be testing out the new diet regimen I set for you. Why--” but he couldn’t even begin to formulate a question before Caspar shot back.

“First of all, get out of my room! I’ve got private stuff in here!” he did, it’s true. He seemed to have smuggled up two bags of dinner rolls. Who knows how he managed to sneak them out of the kitchen. He also had quite a lot of mess on the floor which offended Linhardt more than words could say. “And second I am following your damn diet, okay? So just leave m--” he burped again, then swore. Too unmanned to carry on, Caspar got up and tried to shut the door, but the sudden shift of his tummy made him groan again and look woozy.

Linhardt’s gaze finally met with Caspar’s as he stepped into the room, bearing down on him he spoke with a sharpness born of consistent irritation, “My damn diet? How on earth is gorging yourself on what are, I can only assume, stolen dinner roles following my damn diet, hm? Where in the plan did I say you should eat five pounds of carbohydrates before breakfast?”

Caspar wanted to shout back, but the combination of severe tummy pressure and Lindhardt’s displeasure made him wilt slightly. He sat back in his study chair, suppressing the urge to whimper at the sensation, “Well you told me that if I wanted to improve my muscles I had to carb load before training. I have training this morning and the servants at breakfast won’t make me enough rolls so I took them! Except now all your dumb science has given my a stomach ache, Linhardt!”

Now it was Linhardt’s turn to groan. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he spoke softly, “I should have known you’d do this. I really should have. I don’t know how I didn’t manage to see this coming. After the week you spent knee-capping every person you fought--after the helmet incident.”

Caspar looked defiant, but his glare hid a spark of worry that Linhardt knew well enough. “I--whaddaya mean? Isn’t bread a carbohydrate? Is this not gonna work?”

Linhardt felt his irritation resolve into something warm as he saw Caspar looking up at him. He sighed. He put a hand on his shoulder, “No, it is, but when you exceed your caloric needs for the day like this, the excess of refined carbohydrates is more likely to turn into spare adipose than muscle.”

Caspar blinked several times, “Wait what does that m--” yet again, a distraction from his tummy interrupted him. Linhardt reached down and gently undid those buttons and began to rub Caspar's swollen gut with tender care. Linhardt seemed to see nothing odd about it. Caspar was too confused to say anything.

Still, after a few moments of slightly tense silence, Caspar finally spoke, albeit more softly than before, “Hey uh, Linhardt? What are you doing with my tummy, man?”

Linhardt frowned. Caspar’s chatting was making him feel awkward and that was the last thing he needed, “We both need to report downstairs soon and you’re suffering from severe indigestion. I am using a well-known form of gentle massage to expedite your digestive process and alleviate cramping. Applying gentle pressure can work wonders or so I have read. It has a mental effect at the very least.”

“Oh, right, but I didn’t wanna know about all of that. I just wondered why you were rubbing my tummy.”

“I--...that is. Never mind!” Linhardt found himself pouting, “Just...don’t eat this much bread again, okay? You could make yourself sick you sweet little fool.”

“Sweet?” Caspar smirked as he caught Linhardt’s unfortunate slip up.

“Did I say sweet? I meant to say simpleton, or perhaps st--”

“You think I’m sweet. Hah! Got ‘em.” Caspar smirked, “My many physique has over-awed you and now you are worshiping it. Yes. Rub my tummy, Linhardt. Pay your respects to m-- OWIE!” Caspar yelped in pain as Linhardt gave his overfull tum a nasty poke.  


While the pain receded and Linhardt, embarrassed beyond belief, made his escape, Caspar couldn’t help but smile. Linhardt had called him sweet. Maybe the carb-loading thing hadn’t been a total bust.


End file.
